


Sunday Morning in Paris

by elliemoran



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Florists, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliemoran/pseuds/elliemoran
Summary: There's a thief on the loose, and Minami's number one suspect is the beautiful, silver haired Russian who just stepped into the airport's VIP lounge.
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Sunday Morning in Paris

The VIP lounge was almost empty at this early hour of a Saturday morning, containing only one business-suited man in a back corner, sleep mask over his eyes as he snored softly, and one sleepy attendant perched on his stool behind a slate grey counter.

Idly flipping the pages of the day’s paper, Minami didn’t bother to hold back his jaw-cracking yawns as he waited for the last hour of his shift to be over. It had been a slow night, and he was having more trouble than usual staying awake. Even the newest reports on the big jewelry heist that had occurred earlier that week weren’t enough to keep him from nodding off, but since he’d spent most of the last three nights glued to the news on the TV there wasn’t much left he didn’t already know. 

The almost frigid air that swept through the room did help keep him awake, at least, the silent AC units blocking out the heat that was already radiating off the tarmac runways outside the building.

The lounge was scrupulously clean, done in shades of sedate grey and blue and only saved from being irredeemably impersonal by the bright paintings hung here and there, each lit by discreet spotlights. One curved wall was all darkly tinted glass, just clear enough that anyone sitting on one of the butter-soft leather sofas could watch the busy planes while also being certain that no one outside could see in.

Above the door, an LED panel blinked as it shuffled through the lists of flights in and out for the day, one smaller screen beside it showing the weather – clear and hot. The other was tuned to the news Minami had been watching until he’d had to turn off the volume when the single occupant of the lounge had clearly indicated he wanted to sleep.

When the black glass of the double doors whooshed open, he jerked to his feet, almost stumbling as his body moved before he’d fully woken up. He stuffed the paper into his back pocket to free his hands as he rushed around the counter and across the room to greet his new guest.

He’d already jammed a smile on his face, but it broadened into a wide, genuine grin when he realized who’d walked in. “Mr. Nikiforov! Good to see you again.”

“Hello Minami.” Perfectly shaped lips curved in a smile, and Minami’s heart beat just a little bit faster. 

As the cooly beautiful man stepped further into the room, letting the doors close behind him, Minami knew the other attendants were going to be insane with envy when they realized they’d missed Victor Nikiforov, and he fully intended to torture them all with the specifics.

He liked today’s suit, perfectly fitted and the deepest of grays, with a silver tie a few shades darker than the boxy metal briefcase Victor held at his side. 

“Your usual seat is free, sir, if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” With another smile, Victor walked towards the cluster of seats the attendants kept free for their favorite guests. Private, hidden by a bend in the wall and the attendant’s counter, the seats weren’t immediately visible to people walking into the room. 

“Shall I get you some coffee?”

“Is the coffee as terri- ah. I mean, is the coffee as… _interesting_ as the last time I came through?”

Minami blinked. “It’s the same, I think? I made it fresh an hour or so ago.”

“Ah.” Victor sighed. “That’s alright. I’ll be fine without.” He set his case on a sofa, and settled down to sit beside it.

“I can hold your luggage at the counter for you, if you’d like?”

“Oh, no.” Victor tapped one long finger on the handle of the case. “It stays with me. But thank you.” He smiled up at Minami to soften his words, and then blinked when the rolled up paper in Minami’s back pocket finally let loose and fell to the ground.

Minami saw Victor frown down at it, and then, with surprising speed, bend down to pick it up.

As the man closely studied the paper, Minami angled his head so he could better see what had caught the man’s attention so intently.

“Oh that. They think they got a shot of that guy, finally. You know, that thief that’s been stealing fancy stuff all over the planet?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“He hit a place here in town a few days ago, got a whole bunch of diamonds and stuff. You have to have heard of him, what with all the travelling you do?”

Victor smoothed a hand across the paper, easing out the wrinkles in the photo that filled half the page. It was blurry, black and white. You couldn’t see much, just the slight profile of a man with pale hair, half turned away as he walked away from the camera.

It wasn’t a good photo. Minami had already spent hours poring over it.

“Yes. I’ve heard of him.”

Minami craned his neck further, almost leaning over his guest now. “I can’t figure it out, but I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

Victor looked up at him, clearly startled. “You have?”

Minami realized he was too close. He back off as he shrugged. “Something about him seems familiar. But I can’t place it.” He blinked as he studied Victor. “You, know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that looks like you, a little bit, with that hair.”

Startlement turned into amusement, but before Victor could respond to Minami’s comment, his phone rang. With a smile, he excused himself to answer.

Minami backed away – you at least pretended you weren’t listening in on guest phone calls, even if you were. As he walked back in the direction of his counter, he couldn’t help but hear the first part of the conversation.

“Of course, Yakov. I picked them up as planned.” Victor paused, and then laughed lightly, a soft and velvety sound that Minami always liked, and Minami’s footsteps slowed so he could keep listening. “Someone must have tattled on me. Yes, there was some trouble, it’s fine. I’ll deliver these and then head to Switzerland for the next appointment.” 

Minami didn’t hear any more of the conversation, and sat at his counter, chin resting on his hand as he stared at the TV, deep in thought.

When he heard Victor walking towards him a half hour or so later, he was ready.

“Sir?”

“Victor is fine, Minami.”

“Oh.” Minami flushed, and had to take a second to track down his lost train of thought. “Um. Vic- Victor. Didn’t you say last time you came through you’d just been to Venice?”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“And the time before that, hadn’t you just been in Sydney?”

“Possibly. I do a lot of travelling. It’s hard to keep track.”

Excited, Minami leaned forward on the counter, dropping his voice to something like a loud whisper. “You wouldn’t happen to be that thief, would you?”

\--

Walking through the still mostly empty airport, Victor couldn’t help but laugh a little, to himself. The eternally eager Minami had looked so crushed when he’d told him he wasn’t the infamous thief, as if he’d just been given the worst news in the world. But then, what in the world made him think any thief worth his salt would have admitted it as simply as that, even if it were true?

He'd looked so devastated that Victor had given in and asked for a cup of the nightmare stuff Minami called coffee, just to distract him. It had worked, but the cost had been high – Victor had only forced himself to take one sip before escaping the lounge, but the bitter texture now coated his tongue.

Unfortunately, it was far too early for any of the restaurants or cafés to have opened yet, so he’d have to wait until he got on the plane to rinse the taste out of his mouth.

He passed the last of the closed and barred shops, and since he still had a good hour before his gate opened, he turned back to walk the way he’d come, weaving his way through the trickle of early morning passengers and shop employees arriving for the day.

Occasionally, someone walking by would smile at him, wave, and he’d smile and nod back. Maybe they recognized him. He’d certainly spent enough time in airports – this one, and others spread all over the world – that he likely had spoken to a great many of these people. Some of them might even consider him a friend, or at least an acquaintance. 

But right now, all he could think was that he hoped none of them tried to talk to him.

And he _liked_ talking to people, usually. What in the world was wrong with him, lately? He loved his job, and he’d always enjoyed the way it brought him into contact with a great many people.

Maybe it was time to find a new line of work. 

With a sigh, he adjusted the loop around his wrist that attached him to his briefcase, and turned away from the strip of shops to head up the ramped hallway leading to his gate.

As he glanced down at the watch on his wrist to check the time, he heard a hesitant voice behind him.

“Err…excuse me?”

Victor turned at the soft voice, and found a man in an ill-fitting black suit, with a terrible tie, and the warmest brown eyes Victor had ever seen.

He was certain he’d never spoken to him before, but there was something about the man’s face that was oddly familiar to Victor. As if he’d seen him many, many times before, though he’d never realized it. 

Victor blinked, realizing his eyes had fixed onto the man’s lips, and that those lips had been moving as he’d said something Victor had been too distracted to hear. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” For some strange reason, he felt the faint heat of a blush on his cheeks.

The gentle, hesitant expression on the man’s face faded, and something sharper, _hotter_ , leaped into his eyes. He took a half step forward, gripped the knot of the tie around Victor’s neck, and yanked it towards him.

Victor was too stunned to react as he felt himself being tugged toward the other man. An instant later, warm lips closed over his, and the man let go of his tie to wrap an arm around Victor’s neck. Their tongues met, and Victor barely noticed the way his own hands dropped to hold onto the other man’s waist. A small corner of his mind noted that the man tasted of coffee. _Good_ coffee. 

Dimly, he heard voices nearby as more people streamed around them, but it was hard to make it out over the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

Slowly, he came back to himself. Though his head was spinning, he raised one hand between them and lightly pressed against the other man’s chest.

Even as the man let himself be pushed away, Victor felt the thumping of a heartbeat beneath his palm, as fast and strong as his own. 

When they finally stood a foot apart from each other, they were both breathing deeply. Victor stared into the face inches away from his, a little stunned, and happy to see that the brown eyes looked as dazed as he felt.

He was disappointed a moment later when those eyes sharpened again, but didn’t have time to react before the man spoke.

“Thank you.” The smile that spread over the man’s face was a little rueful, a little wicked. “That was far better than I’ve been imagining.”

Then with a nod, he turned, and seemed to disappear into the slowly growing crowd. 

It was almost thirty seconds after the man walked away before Victor realized his briefcase was gone.

\--

Airport security almost refused to believe him, despite the business card he’d found in his pocket after the man had walked away, identical to the ones that had been left in safes and empty display cases across the planet – it wasn’t until they pulled up the security footage and saw how the man stepped out from the gate of an arriving airplane, before the plane had actually started unloading, and how he seemed to disappear from the footage shortly after he walked away from Victor with Victor’s briefcase in his hands that they started to listen.

Somehow, the man must have known where all the blind spots were, because he’d stopped Victor directly in the middle of one. There wasn’t a single shot that showed anything but the back or side of his head, from beginning to end.

“Do you need me to describe his face?” Victor asked, oddly reluctant. But it wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten an exceptionally good up-close view of it.

“No, no, he alters his appearance so much. We’ve had dozens of conflicting descriptions, and we know he wears wigs.” The policeman that the security guards had finally called in sighed deeply. The dark rings under his eyes looked deep enough to hold a bucket of coffee, and the air of bafflement and frustration that hung over his shoulders made Victor feel a little badly for him. “We only released that photo to the media to see how he’d react, our profiler thought it might annoy him enough to make him act rashly.”

“Fine, then I better at least call my office and have them let the client know I won’t be bringing the goods over.”

“Alright. I’ll get you a report for your insurance company. What was the value of the jewelry in the case?”

Victor blinked. “There was no jewelry.”

“What, was it gemstones then?”

“No.” Victor smiled. “Flowers. I’m a florist.”

Jaw dropping, the policeman gaped at Victor. “Flowers? He stole a case of flowers?”

“Rare flowers, carefully treated to last as long as necessary. The case is temperature and humidity controlled.”

The tired policeman pulled himself enough together to squint suspiciously at Victor. “You pay for that suit and a first class seat on a florist’s salary?”

“I’m a very good florist.”

“You don’t look like a florist.”

“I assure you I do, as that is what I am.” Victor pulled out his wallet, took out one of his own business cards and handed it over.

Blinking down at the silver edged card in his hand, the policeman scratched at his head. “Well, alright. If your… _flowers_ turn up, we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.” 

\--

He had two hours to kill before the new flight Yakov had scheduled for him. The airport was busier now, and though it was easier to slip through the crowds of people without his briefcase, he felt odd without it.

Maybe it was time for a vacation. Yakov wouldn’t like it. Victor’s eyes gleamed as wondered if he could trick Yakov into coming, maybe bring Lillia with him. _That_ might be entertaining enough to fight back whatever this dissatisfaction was that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He stepped slightly aside to avoid a small child running by, and bumped someone with his shoulder. He turned back to apologize, but only saw the back of a head as a brown-haired man pushed through the crowd in the opposite direction.

He almost turned away, back towards his gate, but some impulse made him reach into his pocket. Sure enough, there was another card there, not the same one he’d handed to the police.

Victor looked down. It was a simple white card, with a single, neatly printed sentence. 

_If you want your flowers back, meet me for coffee at that café you like so much, tomorrow morning._

That café, what café?

Victor flipped the card over.

_The one with the blue roses on the walls._ _\- Y_

Eyes widening. Victor stared at the card. Then his head shot up, and he studied the departure board over his head. He flipped out his phone. “Yakov, I need to change my flight. I’m going to Paris.”

As he listened to Yakov squawk in his ear, a grin slowly spread over his face.

Life was about to get a _lot_ more interesting.


End file.
